Not the Early Morning Routine
by BJArthur
Summary: In which Draco forgets what day it is. A hint of jocular fluff disguised as a D/G/B OneShot. Rated for minor licking and biting... only a little, honest.


hey look! more fluff. this is the second one in less than seven days... there might be something wrong with me. but it's not that bad, so i'm not terribly upset by that.

it's Draco/Ginny/Blaise, so if that bothers you, don't read. there's no real action - it's really just fluff - but some people are finicky about that kind of thing so whatever. my Blaise still looks like Gary Lightboy. read my other storie, **_Crack the Shutters_**, if you want to know why.

obviously, this is a oneshot.

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Draco was quite unused to waking up alone. He hadn't since he had turned thirteen, so he was rather disgruntled as to why he was at twenty six. The house was quiet as well, which only further served to confuse him. At first he wondered if one of his lovers had placed the room under a Silencing Spell, but with the birds going at it outside he found that option doubtful. He knew he hadn't gone to bed alone the night previous, not unless the past ten or so years were all some marvellous dream anyway.

He sat up slowly, light blue sheet sliding down his pale chest, and looked at the clock. It was well past nine in the morning, which meant that someone had turned his eight am alarm off. Neither Blaise nor Ginevra liked to get up that early, so that meant that one of them must have turned it off before the previous night's... _activities_.

He gave himself a moment to pause and smirk, remembering just how _wonderful _those activities had been.

But regardless of whatever happened the night before, he would have heard his alarm had it gone off. Draco rubbed a hand over his face. They were up to something; that was the only explanation. And they must have the children in on it too, as the three little terrors could hardly keep themselves quiet this long past breakfast. This brought on another puzzle for the blonde man.

Their five year old twins, Lucas and Linus, tended to come and find him if he failed to show up at the breakfast table at precisely 8:15. Andren, at three and a half, followed her big brothers everywhere and took particular pleasure in trying to climb her Da when she knew his pants might fall down; he made the silliest noises and swinging around while he tried to hold up her and his falling pyjamas was so much fun. And sometimes he even made her and her brothers fly down the stairs and into the kitchen, but that was only when she was being particularly grabby.

Draco had not anticipated just how much he would enjoy being a father. With Lucius as an example, one typically thought the worst when Draco took the kids out on shopping excursions or when Ginevra and Blaise showed up at events without him. But the public wasn't privy to their early morning routines, didn't know how he doted on his children, and weren't aware that he read to them every night when he could. Nor did the public know that it was exactly the same as Draco's father had done for him when he was a child. Lucius Malfoy might've made some horrible decisions in his life, but his son deserved the best and got nothing less than that from him.

The lack of that morning's adherence to their routine worried Draco slightly. He was very sure that nothing short of death or kidnapping would keep his children from pouncing on him before half eight, and that added to the fact that both Ginevra and Blaise were missing from their bed did not bode well for the Malfoy man. He got out of bed carefully, grabbing his discarded pyjama pants from the floor, and then slid his feet into his slippers. He didn't bother with a shirt, which was simple vanity; Blaise always said that he looked rather roguish in the mornings without one. Draco crossed to the door, poked his head out into the hall, and frowned when he saw nothing. A white gold wedding band, carved with symbols from the ancients, flashed on his left hand as he scooped it though his hair. He contemplated using it to find his partners, as both Blaise and Ginevra had matching ones (though Ginevra's was admittedly much more feminine), but a sudden crash from the kitchen caught his attention. Failing not to fear the worst, Draco ran down the stairs and through the halls, bursting into the kitchen to find... his family.

Lucas and Linus sat at the breakfast table, heads in their hands, feet swinging above the floor. They were mirror images of white blonde, bored amusement; it was a look Draco's father proudly claimed only a true Malfoy could master at such a young age. His mother sat opposite of them, watching Ginevra and Blaise with a prim silence, her husband at her side. Lucius, Lucas and Linus had swung their heads in Draco's direction when he had entered, and the five year olds beamed at the sight of their father. Lucius just smirked; it was against the rules for Malfoy patriarchs to beam. Draco motioned for them to be quiet as he took stock of the situation before them.

Blaise, with a very squirmy Andren on his back, stood at the counter by the stove arguing with both his daughter and wife, who had the unfortunate circumstance of being five months pregnant. On the floor between the two grown-ups was what could best be described as a disgruntled house elf; Twilly was banging pots together on his head, mouth gaping in a silent wail as he dealt with the personal distress of his master and mistress arguing while invading his 'personal space', aka the kitchen. Ginevra, dressed in a matching silver pyjama set and Blaise's black terry-cloth robe, stood waving a dripping whisk at her dark-haired husband, obviously struggling with a bout of hormone-induced tears. Blaise was trying to talk Ginevra down from her emotional state while reasoning both with her and his two year old daughter and keeping his black flannel pyjama pants from slipping under Andren's scrambling feet all at the same time.

"Daddy, Da likes _chocolate chips_."

"Blaise, I know that Draco doesn't like blueberry pancakes the best, but _your son_ wants them and they're a _sight _healthier then the _sugar bombs_ you're trying to feed the rest of our children."

"Gin, I'm not trying to feed _any one_ sugar bombs. I'm not trying to – Andren, stop that – I'm not trying to keep you from being healthy, _either_. I just don't think we should have only _one _kind of pancake for – Andy, if you don't _stop _I'm going to put you down – for breakfast."

"Feeding the children nothing but sugar is _completely irresponsible_, Blaise Zabini! _I won't have it_! I'm a_ good mother_! Good mothers don't let their children eat_ pure sugar _for _breakfast_!"

"But Da likes _chocolate chips_, Mummy."

Draco, sensing the on-slaught of an all out melt down from his beloveds, swiftly made his way across the kitchen towards them. Sliding the elf out of his way with his foot, Draco deftly removed his daughter from Blaise's back, who smiled at him winningly through her dark curls, and gently placed her on the floor with a small kiss before nudging her in the direction of her grandmother. The sweet menace scampered away as she was bid, climbing into her grandmother's lap so she could watch Da handle Mummy and Daddy. Draco then took Ginny's face in his hands and smoothed the coppery curls back from her face.

"You're a _wonderful _mother, Gin," he told her, kissing her sweetly. "Anyone who says otherwise is daft." With one hand still cupping Ginny's face, he turned to Blaise, kissing him more than a little less sweetly.

"This is why you need to let me wake up on time," he mumbled against the dark-haired man's lips. A speck of pancake batter on the man's chest caught his eye. Blaise's sudden gasp was the only indication the occupants at the table had of how Draco had decided to remove it. "Now," he said, releasing them and stepping back slightly, "apologize to each other, kiss and make up."

Knowing by now that it was completely futile to protest the fact that he had done anything wrong in the first place, Blaise advanced his wife. Ginny was still sniffling back a few arrent tears, but was well aware that she had been irrational. The emotional roller coaster her hormones sent her on was probably her least favourite part about being pregnant.

"I shouldn't have made you upset," Blaise said, instantly earning points with his husband for being the one to apologize first. Ginny shook her head.

"No, you were right. I was being irrational. And," she added softly so only her men could hear her, "_you know how I feel about Draco's parents_."

Ever since Ginny found out she was pregnant with the twins, Draco's parents held the unique ability to reduce the fiery red haired woman into a near-whimpering mass of nerves while doing absolutely nothing. She knew that being a Weasley automatically put her on the mere outside edge of being accepted by them, but being expected to uphold the rest of the family line was a rather daunting task when Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were your in-laws. Her pregnancy hormones didn't make it any better.

"It was a stupid thing to have an argument about anyway," Blaise said, taking the whisk from her gently and clasping her hands in his. "I mean... pancakes? We've been together for ten years, Ginevra; surely we can come up with more interesting things to fight about other then breakfast food." Ginny giggled as Blaise tugged her closer and gave a smile, a good sign for the Malfoy-Zabini household.

"So," Draco started, turning away from Gin and Blaise as they finished _making up_, "why _exactly _was I left in bed this morning? Mother, Father? Not that I don't appreciate your being here, but I _am_ confused."

"You forgot again!" Lucas exclaimed, trying to look more upset then he really was. "You said that you wouldn't forget again, Daddy."

"But he _did _forget so _I_ get to play with the Falmouth figures first today," Linus said, obviously pleased with the outcome.

"Da forgot his birthday," Andren giggled to her grandmother in a not-so-quiet whisper.

"It seems he did," Narcissa nodded. "Though how anyone could forget such a traumatic experience as their own birth is rather beyond me." Draco stood momentarily stunned.

"Is it _really _June 5th?"

"Has been all day so far," Blaise answered from behind him, Slytherin smirk audible in his voice. Draco whipped around, frowning.

"And you all were going to make me breakfast?"

"We _always _make you breakfast for your birthday, Draco," Ginny said, smiling from her spot snuggled into Blaise's side. "You're the oldest so you get breakfast, then Blaise gets lunch on his birthday –"

"And Mummy gets dinner on her birthday, because you're old and she's pretty," the twins finished. Ginny laughed and it was easy to see who the twins got their smiles from.

"That's exactly right!" Draco's frown deepened as he walked towards the table to sit.

"I can't believe I forgot my own birthday."

"Well, from the reports I've been getting, you've been rather busy at Malfoy Corp," Lucius said, examining Twilly from around the table. "And you stopped making a big deal out of the day when you turned fourteen; mentioned something about being a '_man_'. Oh, son... your elf seems to have decided to take a nap rather than his duties." Narcissa turned in her chair and sneered at the bloody lump still clutching two industrial sized pots.

"It's so difficult to find good help these days." Ginny looked over at the collapsed Twilly, dismayed.

"Oh _no_! Hermione's going to pitch a fit." The red haired woman did her best to crouch at Twilly's side, but her stomach was far too much in the way. "Mosey!" Another house elf appeared beside his mistress. "Mosey, please take Twilly to his room and see he gets proper care; he appears to have knocked himself out again."

"Yes, Missis." The elf, who was more ears then anything else, looked at his bloodied peer and rolled his yellowy eyes. "Twilly is causing _troubles _and _messes _for Mosey," he mumbled, dragging the limp form towards a small side door near the pantry. "Twilly is going to gets a _ripe tongue lashing_ when he is waking ups, yes he _is_..."

Blaise and Draco both fought smirks before turning back to the group.

"Well," Blaise said, clapping his hands together, "shall I start the pancakes then?"

"I didn't know you knew how to make pancakes, love," Ginny said. Blaise shot her a sly smirk.

"My talents are _vast _and _varied_, sweets." He gave her a quick peck. "The only question is what to put in them."

"Actually," Draco started before Ginny could say anything, "how about we go for French toast instead?" It seemed the safest medium; French toast could be doctored to fit anyone's particular taste simply by changing the toppings. The boys at the table cheered. They had been hoping Daddy would ask for French toast all along seeing as their Da made the best, when he was awake and in the _mood _to make breakfast, of course.

That night, after a rather full day of presents and other birthday activities, Blaise, Draco and Ginny snuggled into their king sized bed, Draco warm in the middle of his husband and wife.

"You really have to start remembering when it's your birthday, sweetheart," Ginny said, her head resting on Draco's bare chest. Her hand rested on his stomach, drawing slight pattern's over the abdominal muscles. Draco's arm was slung around her to keep her close.

"We go through this every year, Gin," Blaise said, running his fingers through Draco's silken locks. The blonde man's head was pillowed on Blaise's arm, his own hand stroking the tanned skin of the dark haired man's chest. "He's going to have to start paying more attention to himself for that to happen." Ginny giggled.

"I never thought I'd hear that said about Draco _Malfoy, _of _all _people." Draco's fingers nipped her side.

"Quiet you," he mumbled, lulled half asleep by the hands of his lovers. "You're starting to sound like your oaf of a brother when you say things like that." Ginny bit his chest lightly, then kissed the spot to make up for any pain.

"You worked with him for years; be nice."

"Never said it was _voluntary_."

"Time for sleep," Blaise announced, reaching behind him to grab his wand. Giving a lazy wave, the lights in their bedroom dimmed and turned dark. A single shaft of moonlight filtered through the windows, highlighting the three lovers.

_'Another year,'_ Draco thought, right before falling to sleep. _'And thankfully so many more to look forward to.'_

_

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_so, just so no one gets confused: Lucas and Linus are Draco's twin sons and are 5 years old, thus them calling Draco 'daddy' and Blaise 'da'; Andren is Blaise's daughter and is 3 and 1/2, so she'd call Blaise 'daddy' and Draco 'da'; Ginny is pregnant with a son and they won't really know who the father is until the child is born, she's just saying it's Blaise's to make him feel guilty about not giving her what she wants. they are all perfectly happy together in their polyandrous relationship and parental rights are equally dispersed. if anyone does have any questions, let me know.


End file.
